The Murder on Lakeshore Drive
by Merle's Sugartits
Summary: I wasn't sure if this would be considered a cross-over since it only involves wrestlers, but it's sort of Sherlock Holmes-ish.  If it should be a crossover, let me know so I can change it.  CM Punk/OC Also, it's set in the 1920's
1. Detective Brooks

_**Author's Note/Disclaimer: **__The only character I own is Ophelia Bennett. The plot is entirely mine. I dreamed it. No, I couldn't remember the dialogue or exactly what happened, so I'm filling in the blanks with my own creativity. I thought it was an interesting dream, so I'm making it a fanfiction, despite that it doesn't actually have anything to do with wrestling. (However, I must add that CM Punk and Wade Barrett did play these roles in my dream.)_

I returned to my office shortly after lunch. I didn't know why I bothered to go back, business had been slow lately. I walked through the door and seen my receptionist, Lillian, sitting at her desk. "Any calls while I was out?" I asked.

She shook her head slightly. "No, but you do have a client waiting in your office."

I raised my eyebrows as I shrugged out of my trench coat and hung it on the stand along with my hat before entering the office. The girl was sitting in one of the two chairs in front of my desk. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled into the style that was popular these days. At the click of the door shutting, she turned in her seat to see me. Her large, light green eyes were reddened from tears she'd been crying. "Detective Brooks?" she asked.

I nodded, and she stood. "I'm Ophelia Bennett. I've been told you're the best private investigator in Chicago."

"I see my reputation precedes me. Please, sit back down, what can I do for you?"

I sat down at my desk as she smoothed her burgundy pencil skirt and took her seat once more. She blinked a few times, trying to gather herself before she told me her story. "My husband, Stuart Bennett, was murdered," she finally said.

"Shouldn't the police be investigating this then?" I asked.

She nodded, then shook her head. "They are, but they think I did it. I don't have much faith in them. I need you to find who really done it, and prove my innocence."

"Did you do it?" I asked.

For a minute she looked outraged. She blinked a couple of times before saying, "Of course not! My husband was an arrogant brute, but I loved him." She paused long enough to dab at her eyes with the handkerchief she had been holding. "I can't even kill a spider, and I'm terrified of those things, of course I wouldn't kill my husband."

"You say he was a brute, was he ever violent with you?"

She shook her head, "No. I mean, of course we had arguments, every couple has arguments, but Stu loved me," a faint smile appeared on her lips, but disappeared as quickly as it came. "It was others he was rough with. He had a temper, but he loved me." She nodded her head as if to confirm what she was saying. "Stu would never have hurt me."

She seemed distant for a moment or two, clearly thinking about before the tragedy that had fallen on her. "Why don't you tell me what happened."

She gave a slight nod. "Well, I went away for the weekend. To Lockport. My sister got married."

"And Stuart didn't come with you?"

"No, he had a lot of business to take care of." She started to cry again, but quickly composed herself. Either the woman was a brilliant actress, or she was truly innocent. "I had begged him to come with me, I've never liked travelling alone, but he couldn't. When I returned home, I found him lying in the floor, dead. Like any normal person would do, I called the police. I told them everything I just told you."

"But they think you're guilty?"

She nodded, "They interviewed the people Stu was supposed to be meeting with, but they claim he never came to their meetings."

"What kind of work did your husband do?"

"He was a lawyer."

I thought for a moment before asking, "Did your husband have any enemies? Anyone that might have wanted to hurt him?"

"I told you he was an arrogant brute. I don't think anyone that ever met him liked him."

"Who was your husband supposed to meet with?"

She gave me a list of names before saying, "He brought a lot of his work home. He turned the parlor into an office. If you think it will help, you could come by and look around, see if you can find any clues."

I nodded, "I'll check out the people on the list and then come by tonight or tomorrow."

"Thank you so much detective. I really appreciate your help." She rose from her seat and started towards the door. Quickly, she turned around, "I don't have much money at the moment, our account was frozen, but once you prove my innocence, I'd be happy to pay you whatever you think is necessary for your services."

"Thank you Mrs. Bennett."

Once she had left the office, I called to Lillian to get me addresses for the list of names I had received. Once I had my list, I started making trips to the people's houses. First up, was Heath Miller, a former friend of the victim.


	2. Heath Miller

_**Author's Note: **__I'm not listing all of the co-workers, that would just be absurd. But, for those of you who want to know, it's the former members of Nexus/Corre._

I made the trip across the city to the house of Heath Miller. I knocked on the door and within minutes a red-haired man opened the door. "Can I help you?" he asked, a bit of a country drawl to his voice.

Flashing my ID, I said, "I'm Detective Phil Brooks, I'd like to ask you a few questions concerning the murder of Stuart Bennett."

He threw his hands up in defense, "Look man, I already talked to the cops, I already told them what I know."

"I'm a private investigator. I don't work with the cops."

He sighed, and ran a heavy hand down his face, "Come in." I stepped inside and he shut the door behind me before leading me down the hall to a small parlor. "What can I help you with?"

"You were supposed to meet with the deceased over the weekend, correct?"

"Yeah, we were going to get lunch together yesterday, but he never showed up."

I nodded, considering his answer. "You and the victim were friends?"

"Exactly. We _were _friends. He's an arrogant ass, or, at least, he was. We worked together really, and it turned into a friendship but we had a falling out."

"What was it about?"

Heath shrugged, "I can't remember anymore. It happened a while ago."

"Why were you meeting him?"

"We were stuck working together on a case. We were going to meet for lunch to discuss it before we went to court Friday."

I asked a few more questions before thanking him for his time and leaving. The rest of the evening was spent checking out the rest of Stu's co-workers. I got the thing from each: Stuart Bennett was an arrogant asshole who thought he was better than everyone else, and often times, did his work better than the others. None of his co-workers cared much for him. I still hadn't eliminated his wife from the suspects list, so I asked those who had met her, like Heath, what she was like. Each one said the same: she was an incredibly sweet woman who wouldn't even harm a fly.

It was getting late when I had finished meeting with the co-workers, so I retired to my small apartment for the night. After dinner I sat in my chair and thought about what I had been told. There was still a few more people to talk to. I'd meet with them the next day, and then I'd head over to the Bennett place to see what I could find in the dead man's office.

The next day's interviews didn't give much information. The people that were supposed to have meetings with Stuart Bennett all claimed he never came. So, the next thing to do was visit the Bennett house. I got in my car and drove half-way across the city to Lakeshore Drive.


	3. Stuart and Ophelia Bennett

I pulled up to the large white house, and got out of my car. I stepped through the waist-high iron gate and walked up the few steps to the door. I knocked and was answered by a woman that wasn't Mrs. Bennett. "Can I help you?" she asked with a Spanish accent.

"I'm here to see Mrs. Ophelia Bennett."

"I'm sorry," she said before I could say anything else, "Ophelia isn't feeling well today, you'll have to come back later."

I flashed her my ID, "I'm Detective Phil Brooks, I was-"

I was interrupted again by a voice coming from another room, "It's okay Rosa. He can come in."

Rosa pulled the door open more and I stepped inside, she shut it behind me and I followed her to the small den where Ophelia sat. Her hair was down and hung in loose waves around her shoulders. The amount of frizz in her hair made it obvious that it hadn't been brushed in awhile. The make up she's had on was smeared and streaked, and her eyes were even more red and swollen. She still wore the clothes she'd had on the day before, minus the jacket, which was lying over a chair. Her skirt was wrinkled from being slept in, and her white satin blouse was untucked and just as wrinkled. An open bottle of wine sat on the table next to her.

The sight was a pathetic one. For one, I had never been the type to drink or smoke, or anything else of that nature, so the wine immediately turned me away. But it was the beautiful woman's appearance that struck my heart. I walked over to her and knelt down, "Are you okay, Mrs. Bennett?"

"I'm as okay as anyone in my position could possibly be," she said through sobs. "Rosa will show you where Stu's office was."

At the moment, my concern was my client, "Have you slept at all? You look terrible."

She shook her head.

"Why not?"

"I just...I can't. I can't bare to lay in that bed and not feel his arms around me."

I stopped for a moment to consider my words before I said anything. I often had a habit of speaking without really thinking first, and I didn't want to offend the woman. "You can't fall to pieces because of what's happened. You have to be strong, for your husband, don't you think that's what he'd want?" I reached over and grabbed her hand, "What do you think he'd say if he saw you like this?"

She thought for a moment then shrugged. Finally, she said, "I don't know, probably," deepening her voice and speaking with a fake British accent, "Darling, what do you think you're doing laying around moping. Get up and go get a shower. Wash your face. You'll be alright."

I smiled at her impression and said, "See there, he wouldn't want you lying there. Why don't you go upstairs and bathe, change your clothes, and I'll take you to get some lunch."

"I don't know."

"You need to get out of the house," Rosa urged her. "Your impression of Stu is right. You can just lay there all day."

She looked at the woman, then at me, then said, "Okay."

I smiled and told her I'd look around the office while she was bathing and getting dressed, Rosa stood in the doorway and watched. I sat at the desk and rummaged through the paperwork that was scattered over the top of it and in the drawers.

Sitting on top of the desk was a photograph of the couple. Ophelia's hair was pulled back and twisted into a bun, his dark hair was slicked back. They were both smiling, showing off their perfect teeth. It was obviously from their wedding day. He was dressed in a tuxedo, and she had a long, white, form-fitting, lace gown on. A white rose was pinned to his lapel and she was holding a bouquet of white roses. I picked it up and stared at the happy couple for a moment. There was a small crack in the glass as if it had been knocked down.

"Have you known Mrs. Bennett long?" I asked Rosa.

She nodded, "I've known her for many years, we're very good friends."

"Can I ask you what your thoughts on her husband were?"

"The same as everyone else's I suppose. He was a hothead, and he was arrogant." She shrugged, "Ophelia loved him though. She absolutely adored him, he couldn't do anything wrong in her eyes. She'd always find a way to defend him. And he doted on her. He'd give her anything she wanted. He would have tried to give her the moon if she asked."

"So they were very happy?"

Rosa nodded, "I've never seen a couple more in love than they were. You don't think she did it, do you?"

I shook my head, "No. I have an idea as who might have."

Ophelia finally appeared in the doorway. Her hair was cleaned, and smoothed. She had left it down to fall in perfect waves. She wore a plain black dress that fell just below her knees, with a matching black jacket. A large black sunhat rested on top of her head, and a pair of large sunglasses covered her reddened eyes. "I'm ready," she said solemnly. Have you found anything helpful?"

"I might have. I do have a few questions before we leave. Where did you find your husband, and how was he positioned?"

I watched as her muscles tightened and then released. "Well, he was in here. His chair had been knocked over, and he was lying over here," she crossed the room to where I was standing. "His head was here," she pointed to a spot right in front of the bookcase, "and he was lying with his feet in that direction." She pointed towards the opposite side of the room. "Most of the things on his desk were in the floor, but I picked them all up after the police finished their search of the room. Same with some of the books that had been thrown onto the floor."

"Do you know how he was murdered?"

She shrugged, "It looked as if he had been beaten. That's part of why I think it's just absurd that the police suspect me. I mean, look at me," she picked the picture up from the desk, "Look at him." He was at least a foot taller than her, and looked rather muscular. "Do you really think I could have hurt him. He could have broken me with just one hit."

"Anything else that you didn't tell me yesterday that might help? Anything at all? Was there anything in his hands?"

She thought for a moment, and even though I couldn't see her eyes, I knew from the slight parting of her lips that she had something. "There was a piece of cloth in his hand, like it had been ripped from something. The police brushed it off as if it was nothing though."

I smiled, "Alright, we can go to lunch now if you'd like. Rosa, you're welcome to join us."


	4. Randy Orton

_**Author's Note: **__Before I get started, I want to thank _xj0j0x for all the sweet comments/reviews. I hope everyone else has enjoyed this just as much. It'll be over soon. :( But I'll start another, more traditional, wrestling fanfic in a couple of days.

When I dropped the two women back off at the Bennett house, I asked Ophelia if she had the scrap of fabric she had found in her husband's hand. She nodded and hurried off to get it. She came back with the material and I thanked her for it before leaving. I drove back to my office and found Lillian sitting at her desk reading a book. She looked up when I entered and smiled, "How's the case going?"

"It'll be closed in a day or two."

"Really?" she sat up straight in her chair, "You figured out who done it?"

I nodded, "I think so. You might as well put your book down. I have some errands for you."

"Alright."

I went into my office and wrote down my instructions for her. She returned within a couple of hours with the information I wanted.

I went to a small diner for dinner before going back to my apartment. Ophelia was lingering in my mind. I didn't understand why. She was beautiful, yes, but there were plenty of beautiful women in Chicago. There was something about her though, I couldn't figure it out. I didn't sleep well that night. Ophelia kept running through my dreams in her little black dress. She'd turn a corner and look back at me. I'd chase after her, and then I'd wake up, only to do it all over again.

When morning finally came, I showered and got dressed. I didn't bother to stop by the office. I knew where I was going, and what I was going to do. I pulled up to the run-down apartment building. It was filled with ex-cons and drug addicts, it disgusted me. I tucked my pistol into the holster that was hidden by my jacket and got out of my car. I went inside, immediately being engulfed in the smell of regret and despair.

I ascended the stairs to the fourth floor and knocked on the door of apartment 4I. The man who answered was just a couple inches taller than me, had a closely shaved head, and tanned skin. "What?" he asked, he certainly didn't seem like a friendly man.

I quickly flashed him my badge and told him, "I'm Detective Phil Brooks, I have a few questions. You're Randal Orton, correct?"

"Yeah, call me Randy though. What do you want?"

I smiled and entered the room, I opted not to take a seat though. Randy shut the door behind me and sat down on the couch. "You were recently released from prison, correct?"

"Yeah, I served three years for assault."

"And the lawyer who put you in prison was Stuart Bennett, correct?"

"Yeah, so, what's that have to do with anything?"

"He was murdered this past weekend. And, if I'm not mistaken, you told him as you were being taken away that you'd make him pay for it?"

Randy sighed and rubbed his temples. "Yeah, I said that, but I didn't mean it. It was just words. I was angry. I haven't seen him since that day."

I nodded and looked around the room, noticing a coat rack near the door. "It's autumn, and you don't have a coat."

"It's at the dry cleaners."

"You only have one coat?"

He arched one eyebrow then held his hands out, "You see where I'm living. An extra coat isn't really at the top of the list of things I need."

I nodded, "Right, of course." I smiled, "Sorry to have bothered you."

He shrugged, "Don't worry about it."

I left the apartment and drove to the nearest dry cleaner's. I walked up to the clerk, told him who I was and asked if he had a coat from Randal Orton.

"Yes, he just brought one in Sunday."

"Can I see it? It's important for the investigation."

The man nodded and disappeared behind the bagged clothes. He returned with a navy blue blazer. I opened the bag and compared the jacket with the piece of cloth Ophelia had given me.

I smiled and thanked the clerk for helping with the investigation then went straight to my office. "I have some important things to do," I told her. "I don't want to be disturbed."

She nodded and I sat down at my desk and wrote a letter to the chief of police, John Lauriniatis, asking him to come to my office the next day. It wasn't long before there was a knock at my door and Lillian poked her head in, "Mr. Brooks?"

"Yes?"

"I know you didn't want to be disturbed, but Mrs. Bennett is here to see you."

"Let her in.


	5. Chief Laurinaitis,  Finale

"Have a seat," I said, motioning to the chairs in front of my desk.

She acted as if I hadn't said a word, "Is it true?" she rushed forward, dropping her purse in a chair, "Rosa said you think you know who killed my husband. Is it true?"

I nodded my head, "Yes, I believe I've figured it out."

She rushed around the desk and threw her arms around me, "Oh, thank you, Mr. Brooks! Thank you. " She pulled away from me and smoothed out the front of her purple dress, composing herself. "Who done it?"

"That will be revealed tomorrow," I told her. "I've written a letter to the chief of police to meet me here tomorrow. I intend for us to apprehend the murderer together, you're welcome to join us tomorrow morning."

She nodded her head, telling me she'd join us. I told her what time be at my office. We spoke for a few more minutes before she hugged me tightly again. "Thank you so much, Mr. Brooks," she told me.

"Please, just call me Phil."

She smiled. A real smile. I could still see the pain and the loss in her eyes, but knowing that the person guilty for the crime commited was going to pay for it, she was able to smile again.

* * *

><p>When morning came I waited patiently in my office for Chief Laurinaitis and Ophelia. Laurinaitis arrived first. "What can I do for you Mr. Brooks? Your letter wasn't very specific." Laurinaitis and I weren't exactly friends. I had proved him wrong a number of times with various cases, and I was about to do it again.<p>

"I know who murdered Stuart Bennett."

"So do I, it was his wife."

I shook my head and smiled, "No, you see, you're too quick to brush off the ramblings of a devastated woman, and I actually pay attention, not only to her, but to the crime scene. I guess you could call me a real-life Sherlock Holmes."

"Alright, well, who done it then."

I raised my forefinger into the air just seconds before Lillian knocked on the door. "Mr. Brooks, Mrs. Bennett is here."

"Let her in."

Ophelia entered the room and I smiled, "I thought we could all ride over together." Laurinaitis looked angry. Once again, I'd book the bad guy, and he'd sit there on the sidelines watching. It was really a mystery why he was still chief of police. We stepped into the lobby and I pulled on my coat and grabbed my hat.

* * *

><p>We rode to the dingy apartment building, in my car, Ophelia sat next to me in the passenger's seat, while Laurinaitis rode in the car behind us with one of his lackies. When I stopped the car, and started to get out, Ophelia grabbed my hand and I looked at her, "I'm nervous, I don't know if I can face him."<p>

"It'll be okay," I told her. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

She looked down at her lap.

"You can sit in the car if you want."

One quick scan of the neighborhood and she shook her head, "No, I'll go in with you."

Her disgust of the place was obvious. Men lingering in the halls watched her, she quickly wrapped her hands around my arm. I had known from the beginning that bringing her along would most likely be a bad idea, but I also knew that a woman like her wouldn't take no for an answer.

We went up to the apartment and I knocked on the door. Ophelia hid behind me. I could feel her weight on me as she stood on tip-toe to peer over my shoulder at the man who answered the door. "Detective, I told you everything I knew yesterday," Randy said.

"As you can see, I'm not alone today, may we come in?"

He didn't say anything, but stepped aside so the party could enter. Ophelia continued gripping my arm.

I smiled, "What you failed to mention was that you took your coat to the dry cleaner's because it needed to be repaired. " I pulled the scrap of material out of my pocket, "This matches the lining of the coat in question."

"Where'd you find that?"

"It was clasped in the victim's hand. You see, I've read the files on you. The file Stuart Bennett had for his case against you. Your criminal record is a lengthy one. I also know you have a terrible habit of holding grudges. You held one agaist the victim for three years. Now, stop me when I make a mistake. When you finally got out of prison, you watched him. You followed him, his wife. When Mrs. Bennett went out of town, you waited until night fell, then you slipped inside his house, most likely picking the lock like you did when you were a teenager and would get busted for breaking and entering. You thought you'd take him by surprise, kill him quickly.

"However, Mr. Bennett wasn't surprised, and he tried to defend himself. There was a struggle, it became you or him. Finally, you had him on the ground, he hit you with his books, he tried to fight you off. He reached for the phone that sat on his desk, knocking papers down into the floor. You seen the gold picture frame lying there on the edge of the desk. You grabbed it, and slammed it down against the side of his head, killing him."

Randy stood there in shock. "Is it true?" Laurinaitis said.

Randy didn't reply.

"Did you kill Stuart Bennett?" Laurinaitis asked again.

"I...I..." finally he just nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. And I'd do it again."

Laurinaitis nodded to the lacky and the cuffs were put on Randy's wrists. "You won't have that chance," he told Randy. "You're going to prison for a very long time."

* * *

><p>Ophelia and I drove to her house so I could drop her off. "How'd you do it?" she asked.<p>

"Well, as another great detective once said, 'Once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth'"

She smiled, "I can't thank you enough. As soon as I can withdraw money again, I'd be happy to pay you whatever you think necessary for your services."

"Don't worry about it," I told her as I pulled up to the house. I got out, and walked around the car to let open her door. "Seeing you smile is payment enough."

She gave a little chuckle, and I walked her to her door.

"If you ever need me again, and I hope you don't, you know where to find me."

She nodded her head.

"Well, goodbye Mrs. Bennett."

* * *

><p><strong>1 Year Later<strong>

I sat in my chair reading the news paper. Things were finally starting to pick up again. Lillian knocked on my door, "Mr. Brooks, there's a woman here to see you."

"Let her in."

I didn't look up from the paper until I heard the door shut. She stood in front of me, the same burgundy skirt and jacket she'd had on the first time I seen her. Her strawberry blonde hair was a little longer and pinned to the side. Her eyes sparkled, no longer red and swollen from crying.

I was stunned to see her again. When I had proven her innocence I had thought that would be the last time I seen her. "Mrs. Bennett, what..what can I do for you?" I stumbled over my words a bit.

She smiled, "Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to go get dinner with me tonight?"

I thought for a moment, "I'd love to."

_**Author's Note: **Please don't get pissy with me for choosing Randy Orton as the murderer. I am actually an Orton fan, I chose him because of the feud he had recently with Wade._


End file.
